


you ignite that spark of happiness

by 1dfics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Pining Louis, Self Confidence Issues, Self Harm, but it mostly just focuses on zouis, louis hurts a lot, there's a glimmer of an ot5 friendship in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1714424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1dfics/pseuds/1dfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had never thought blood was pretty though - that is, until the first time he saw it ooze out of his own skin.</p>
<p>Or the one in which Louis's life changes within the space of three days and it's all because of his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you ignite that spark of happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This is, hands down, for my flower bestie(the bitch told me to call her that), Yasmine. She's a little bit obsessed with depressed Louis, angst, and Zouis and I guess this is how this fic came about?
> 
> If there's anyone out there who's suffering from depression or self harm, please do seek help(even telling your parents or friends how you feel can make a big difference) - being depressed isn't something that anyone enjoys and it isn't a choice but it's curable, trust me.
> 
> Anyway, if any of you manage to stumble upon this fic and decide to waste ten to twenty minutes of your precious time reading it and end up hating it - I sincerely apologize.
> 
> But if you enjoy it, happy days.
> 
> P.S If there's any mistakes(I didn't read through it okay, I'm lazy, and I don't have a beta - I should have really gotten one of my friends to read through it but oh well), just ignore them, please and thanks.

The thing is, Louis loves the beach and the sky and he likes gripping the sand and allowing it to descent between his fingers when he spreads them slightly. He's fond of the sky and the colours mixing together, all blaring blues that's transforming into a darker shade and he can see a little bit of peach peeking out behind the white fluffy clouds and sometimes he just wants to reach up, grab the soft fuzz and cuddle it until it evaporates into thin air. The sun is a soft apricot colour and if there wasn't a minimal breeze in the air, ghosting over the skin of his face and slipping in between the nooks and crannies of his clothing, he'd think that it was the beginning of summer.

And it is.

However, Louis doesn't like summer because that means short sleeved t-shirts and he  _hates_  short sleeved t-shirts, for many reasons. One of them being that anyone could easily spot the prominent scars, both some that are vanishing and others that are still fresh and he'd be lying if he denied feeling the stickiness of the gash glue to the fabric of his overly heavy jumper but he doesn't care, can't care, because he hates himself and the way he is and his high pitched voice and the little pudge on his stomach that he desperately needs to get rid of and his fat thighs and hands,  _everything_.

The only thing he admires in his life are his friends. He has absolutely no clue why they've stuck around since the good ole days of high school but he's glad. He's happy that he has curly(also known as Harry but "curly" had slipped from Louis' lips the minute he had laid eyes on the green eyed boy in the cafeteria after the clumsy twat had bumped into him, carrying a shit load of books that weren't even for him), then along came Liam, who had - and still has - a love for running. He can remember watching Liam out on the track and the way that boy ran was literally legendary, his feet confined in those stupid bright white and black trainers seemed to bounce from the pavement and the way his arms bent gave him that little bit of an extra push. Louis decided that he needed to have Liam in his life because not only could the lad run, but he was innocent - he isn't all that innocent anymore, the gang, especially Louis himself has corrupted him quite a bit and now Liam's all rough touches and swearing and Louis _likes_ him this way, despite the fact that there's still a bit of apprehension there. Next, Niall made his way into the picture, oceanantic blue orbs with golden flakes swimming around in the Iris and an accent that pierced through Louis' ears. Still though, Niall was a happy go-lucky guy, and he always seemed to have a spring in his step - Louis was, and still is, fond of the little leprechaun and it's not just because he supplies a shit load of booze most of the time. And last but not least,  _Zayn_.

He had met Zayn outside of the school buildings and it was caused by him pushing the door a little too hard, the rectangular glass almost smacking Zayn right on his side and if it weren't for the seventeen year old quickly stepping away and yelling at Louis - he may also have pushed him up against the lockers because that was just Zayn but Louis pretends that didn't happen, for the sake of the both of them. Though, he did quite enjoy the feeling of Zayns fingertips against his small, skinny biceps at the time - the two would have never bonded over how dull school is and Zayns artwork.

But the thing is, when it comes to Zayn, the lad has so many layers that Louis has unraveled over the last three to four years. He's actually quite funny, a bit reserved when you first meet him but he certainly doesn't take any bullshit. He's always got his head in the game, always focuses on the things he loves and cares for, and sometimes he pretends he doesn't have a heart but he does, and they all know it. He's different and Louis figures that's why he latched onto him so easily.

And when he had invited them all to his parents' house to watch crappy sitcoms on the small LG telly and sit out in the backyard with a beer or two, they all glued together, somehow. Harry brought the silly jokes, Niall brought the craic, Liam brought the innocence, and Zayn- well, Zayn brought so many different attributes to them. 

But until this very second, of Louis sitting on the beach, eyes still trained on the sky and his sturdy fingers gripping the sand and lifting slightly before letting it fall between his fingers, he doesn't know what be brought or brings to the group - they work though, and that's all that matters to him.

The only difference is, is that he was genuinely happy back then and he was comfortable in his own skin but after too many pork pies(he thinks it was the pork pies but it could have quite easily been fajitas), he started to gain a small amount of chub around his belly area and even though he's seen people bigger than him, he still loathes it. He's tried dieting, hell, the bloke even misses lunch or dinner sometimes because he doesn't want to end up like those obese people he sees on TV.

It's stupid, he knows.

But he can't stop hating himself.

And sometimes, when he's in the safety on his own room, door locked and the lights out, he'll pinch, poke, and prod at it until tears are rolling down his cheeks, soon sending him into a restless slumber that won't even have him feeling refreshed in the morning. He'll wake up feeling drowsy and disgusting, maybe even a bit useless too, but then he sees Zayns smile as he offers him the usual morning tea(that usually comes with a slice of toast if he's been awake for long enough) and that seems to brighten up his entire day, until he's alone again - except, he's always lonely, even in a room full of people.

And it's sad. But he doesn't mind because he likes the silence, always has, always will.

\- x -

He's sat in the small art studio of his flat that used to be a storage rooms filled to the brim with dusty boxes, his bum has gone numb from sitting on the black stool for just over an hour now but he doesn't give a damn because he deserves to feel like this, and he has a pencil wedged between the curve of his thumb and the side of his index finger, scribbling away onto the piece of paper. He needs to finish this little masterpiece of the view of London(really, it's just buildings and a boring sky), even though it's not much, but it's the only thing he's proud of.

Zayn would usually draw with him but he had stopped a couple of months back when the lad had successfully achieved a bar tending job down at the local pub and now his nights are booked and by the time he wakes up(generally in the afternoon), he acknowledges Louis for a good few seconds until he's out cold again. And then Louis will wake him up an hour or two before his shift and practically force food down the male's throat and tell him to get cleaned up, even though Zayn's good at taking care of himself, flawless skin and hair perfected into a quiff, each and every god damn day.

Friday's are Zayns day off though, and thankfully, today is Friday. He had a late night last night and Louis can vaguely remember him stumbling in through the door and when he woke up, the boy had tore his clothes off in the hallway, along with his shoes and didn't even bother closing his room door because when Louis had wandered past, he could see the faint silhouette of the sleeping boy and a part of him wanted to cuddle him, hold him close and whisper silly little things into his ear, but - instead, he continued his way into the bathroom and proceeded to push the familiar blade into the soft skin of his thigh, having to bite down onto the cloth to prevent the screams of pain that would definitely wake Zayn from his slumber - Zayn despises being woken up. Louis succeeded though, and he has to admit, he's rather proud of himself. 

He's too caught up in shading in a part of a building to realize that Zayn's stood behind him with two cups of tea, glancing over his shoulder to sneak a view at his drawing but then he hears an intake of breath which has him snapping his gaze in the direction of the source and he's met with vibrant caramel coloured orbs and a timid smile that should be fucking illegal.

"Didn't mean to scare you." Zayn says, shrugging a bit as he holds the green mug out in front of him a little further.

"It's okay." Louis assures him as he sets the pencil down and wraps his fingers around the cup, lifting it from Zayn's grasp before taking a small sip, silently loving the way the warm liquid travels down his throat, sending him into a frenzy of calm and relaxed.

Zayn lets out a small cough, brings his own cup up to his lips and then takes a drink. "What you're working on - it's great, Lou."

Louis can fucking feel his cheeks turning two shades darker than normal but he doesn't break Zayn's gaze, just nods. "Thanks but c'mon, what do you want?" Whenever Zayn compliments him or his artwork, he's commonly after something, whatever it may be.

And there it is, that fucking cheeky grin with pearly whites and the corners of Zayns eyes crinkle as he lets out a quiet chuckle that sounds a lot like angels singing. He watches as Zayn lowers his head, setting the cup down on top of the desk. "Niall's throwing a party next week and-"

"No." Louis cuts him off, voice firm. He's not going to a party. He stopped partying when he became unhappy - a good few years ago, if he remembers correctly.

"You haven't been to a party in years," Zayn whines, brings his hand up to thread his fingers through his hair. "Please, Louis. It'll only be for an hour or-"

" _No_." He repeats, tilting his head to the side a bit. "Parties aren't my scene anymore and you know that."

"Yeah, I know but-"

"I said no, Zayn." Louis snaps and he swears he sees something that seems a lot like sadness flash through Zayns eyes but he's not quite sure because before he can even come to a decision, Zayn's raising the cup to his lips again, closing his eyes as he takes a sip and that's when Louis notices the lads hair; he hasn't got it quiffed up, it's loosely hanging over his forehead, making him look a lot like seventeen again, especially with the way his eyelashes fan out across his cheeks, and his sweats and bright orange shirt definitely don't help, fuck.

He can feel it; the twist in his gut, the flutter in his stomach, something tugging at his heart. It's - whatever _it_ is - is trying to tell him something and maybe deep down inside, he knows what it's trying to tell him but he doesn't want to come to terms with it because Zayn's off limits, not to mention way out of his league. Zayn's meant for someone with brains and beauty, not someone who's worthless and ugly.

_It_ haunts him though, when they're together(alone or not). He can always sense it. It's there, in the back of his mind, tapping at his brain and demanding for him to accept it before the words come tumbling out of his mouth. Maybe if he were slimmer and had skinny thighs, a lot like a stick figure, and had thick beautiful eyelashes and eyes that could light up the entire nation, then maybe he'd give it a go.

But for now, he's happy being Zayn's friend because not only does he want to put Zayn through pain and torture, he knows that's all he's ever going to be.

"You're a meanie." His bottom lip nudges out a bit as his eyes lock with Louis' and Louis wants to cave in on himself so he does.

"And you're a shit head." He responds in the most sarcastic way he possibly can because with Zayn looking like that, he's blown away - always is when it comes to Zayn.

Zayn throws his head back, cackles a bit and Louis isn't quite sure but he thinks he sees fondness glimmer in Zayns eyes but it's gone just as fast as it appeared. "You're a dummy."

"A dummy?" Louis chuckles, shaking his head. "Is that the best you got?"

Zayn pushes his lips together, lolls his head to the side as if he's thinking about his answer until a - "No, but  _this_ is the best I got," falls from his mouth and before Louis can even react or get a word in, Zayn already set his tea down on the desk and then his fingers are everywhere(mostly digging into Louis' sides), and Louis is  _laughing_ , fucking howling, and there's a brief moment where he feels happiness as he doubles over, trying to squirm out of his best mates grip, but then that voice makes itself known in his mind, notifying him that Zayn can probably feel the fat clinging onto his sides and that he probably feels revolted by it.

"Z-Zayn," Louis can't help but laugh. He's ticklish, even though he wishes he wasn't. "Stop."

"Got ya now Tommo, haven't I?" Zayn's chortling and it sounds a hell of a lot like decent music to Louis' ears but unfortunately, that fuckin irritating voice is getting louder and louder and he feels like he's getting fatter and fatter, to the point where he's going to burst.

"Zayn..." He tries grabbing at Zayns hands, arms, wrists - whatever he can really, but it's no use. Zayn may look thin and tiny, but his strength is unpredictable to most people. "P-please, st-"

"Nah, don't think I will." Zayn argues in the most cheekiest way possible and Louis can feel the tips of the boys fingers bend slightly and Louis thinks that he's definitely not going to want to touch him after he feels all the blubber there.

"Don't be - fuck, don't be a fucking prick." Louis spits out and he doesn't mean for it to come out bitter and cold but it does and then next thing he knows, Zayn's slowly but surely pulling away with a frown upon his features and Louis wonders if he's allowed to kiss it away, to bring the infamous stunning smile back to his pale red lips, but.

"What's wrong?" Zayn asks as he straightens up, concern evident in his tone and his eyes and all over that pretty little face of his.

This is the last thing Louis wanted, to make Zayn worry. He doesn't deserved to be worried about, especially by Zayn, because Zayn's worth so much more than pointless, unattractive human beings - especially ones with thunder thighs and a stomach that could go on for centuries. "Nothing," he shakes his head and forces himself to his feet. "Just tired, that's all."

Zayn looks unsure, Louis can tell by the way his brows furrow together, but then Zayn just nods and steps forward. "Can I have a hug?"

Louis wants so desperately to allow the thoughts of -  _"No._   _I don't want you to feel the fat hanging from my hips,_ " but he refrains and holds out his arms open for Zayn because no matter what, he doesn't refuse to give the younger of the two hugs.

He watches as Zayns face shine as he steps into Louis' personal space, his tattooed arms making their way around his waist and Louis detests it. He can't deny the comfort he feels flood through his veins though, especially when he snakes his arms around Zayns neck, and breathes in his scent and okay, he may smell a lot like cigarettes and tea but Louis yearns for it, needs that familiar scent in his life because if it's gone, he's missing - Zayn hasn't left yet though, and when he feels Zayns grip tighten around him, as if he's trying to pull him closer or send him a secret message but Louis doesn't quit catch it.

"You're an idiot," Zayn whispers as he turns his head to the side, nudges Louis' neck a bit. "But you're _my_  idiot and my best friend."

_Yeah, and that's all I'll ever be_.

 

That night, when Zayn's sound asleep on the couch, Louis creeps into the bathroom and wastes no time popping open the button of his jeans, yanking them down as he feels a lump form in his throat and tears well up in his eyes, making his vision go blurry - he figures that's similar to how he feels, a mixture of emotions all coming together, banging bumpers in a head-on collision as repugnance screams from the rooftop. He makes sure the door is locked and the light is turned on, even gives it a few pulls himself to double check before retrieving the sharp blade from the pocket of his jeans, moves the material that covers his thigh upwards, and lowers himself down onto the toilet as he tears a generous amount of toilet paper from the roll next to him.

He's been dying to do this, ever since Zayn had pulled away from him. It's been itching at him, clawing and marking him that's most likely left invisible scars - especially on his heart. But as he takes a deep breath and bites down on his lower lip(he's kind of thankful that Zayn can sleep through a fucking earthquake), and presses the blade to his already marked skin and  _pushes_ , he feels it all flood away, especially when the flesh breaks in two and then there's blood, a lot of blood, and Louis has to clamp his fucking teeth down on his bottom lip to stop those choked up cries of pure agony to make themselves known but the tears are burning and the slash feels like it's ablaze but he doesn't stop, can't stop, because with every cut, he feels his hatred for himself drain away(only to be built back up again).

He takes a deep breath, presses a bit harder, and lets a small whimper to take a trip past his lips. He feels a thick substance  trickle down the left of his leg but he doesn't care, and he swears he hears the droplets as they spill onto the white tiles beneath him and he knows he'll have to clean it up after he's done, even though he won't have the energy because he'll be absolutely empty and exhausted and all he'll want to do is throw on a pair of sweatpants and climb into bed.

He doesn't look at the mess he's making though, thinks that he's already a mess because really, his head is a mess of jumbled thoughts and insults aimed towards himself so there's really no point.

He had never thought blood was pretty though - that is, until the first time he saw it ooze out of his own skin.

He cuts until he's panting. He cuts until he's sobbing quietly. He cuts until he's bent over, the pain too much to handle. He cuts until he feels numb and dull but the relief that washes throughout his body fights any other emotion. He cuts until he's gripping onto the sink with his free hand. He cuts until he _can't_ anymore.

\- x -

"Niall, you can't fucking play pool, just give up already." Liam states bluntly and if Louis didn't have his lips around his glass of water, he'd laugh.

They're all sat in the local pub just down the street from the flat and it'd be okay if it weren't loud with a crappy pop song blaring through the speakers and if there wasn't a herd of football fans at the other end of the bar, downing beers like there's no tomorrow. Louis doesn't even keep up with football anymore, he's lost interest in it completely, but he knows for a fact that if he was eighteen instead of twenty-two he'd be the first one to gather them all together and ramble on about the champion league like the sun wasn't going to come up the next day.

But right now, he's watching Niall and Liam battle against each other in a game of pool and Niall really, really can't play pool but he tries, bless him. Harry's currently on the sidelines, downing a straight vodka as he keeps an intense gaze on the pair of them and Louis can tell by the way the corners of his lips tug upwards that he's smirking around the rim of the glass. Zayn's behind the bar and as Louis glances over, he sees Zayn leaning forward with his elbows against the counter, bent against his chest and his eyes are glued to a pretty blonde with dazzling blue eyes.

"I can play, you fuckin' twat," Niall banters back, which entices Louis' head to snap in the direction of the two, regardless of the jealousy gathering in the middle of his chest, making him feel heavy and weighed down - he deserves it. "You're just jealous 'cause I'm Irish and you're not."

Liam scoffs loudly, grabs his pint from the table and takes a drink before setting it back down. "You're lying."

"Am not!" Niall defends with knitted brows and Liam just laughs and makes his way over to the pool table, subtly(or so he thinks but Louis picks it up), bumps his shoulder against Nialls.

Liam likes Niall - anyone can see that with a pair of fucking eyes. Hell, even if a blind person strolled by, Louis bets they could sense it within a matter of seconds. It glows from Liam, the fondness he has for Niall, the  _love_ he has for him too - it's in every word the boy allows to escape his mouth, really, and it's in his eyes too. Niall's just a stubborn fuck and chooses to ignore it but he feels the exact same, Louis can tell, except Niall's a little more distant with his feelings because Louis knows Niall doesn't want to ruin their friendship or make the group fall apart.

And if only Louis had the balls to admit his feelings( _pft - what feelings?_ ), he'd come clean with Niall and have a nice long chat over a cuppa and Breaking Bad playing in the background.

"Niall, you fucking - ugh, I'm gonna kill you." Liam says through gritted teeth and Louis watches in amusement as Niall throws his fist up in triumph(Louis guesses he successfully got another ball into the throat of it without any further damage to either of them because Niall had purposely almost jutted Liam right in the stomach with it).

"Kill me, Payneo, and write ' _I'm a fucking champion'_ on my grave," There's a smirk on Nialls lips and Louis takes notice of how adoration lights up Liams eyes for a second or two until Niall's saying, "I'm a fucking legend," which has Liam launching forward and getting Niall in a headlock and then it isn't long before Harry's laughing.

Louis' brows are raised in amusement, thinks that this is a lot better than those shitty comedy shows he watches on the telly when Zayn's at work - speaking of Zayn, Louis reluctantly turns back to him and he only hesitates for a moment but then he's wishing he hadn't because Zayn's got this look in his eyes and Louis  _knows_ that look. It's a lot like lust and desire(something else is there too but he can't make it out). There's a part of him that hopes it isn't because that look isn't for him, it's for that stupid fucking dressed up flaxen haired girl who's currently twirling a stand of hair.

He wants to look away, wants to peel his eyes from the scene unraveling in front of him but he can't. He watches as Zayn inches closer and closer, the smile never leaving his face(Louis wants to punch his flawlessness away - he's lying to himself), and then Zayns eyes flicker towards Louis and his lips coil upwards into a grin - well, something between a grin and a smirk, Louis isn't quite sure, all he knows is that he doesn't like Zayn at this very moment in time.

And then it's there. That feeling, scratching at his skin and cuts, especially the cut he had made the night before and _no_ , this can't be happening. The demons are there, picking up every shred of happiness Louis had managed to pick up from the minute he opened his eyes right up until this very second and he can feel them, suffocating every organ, attacking his emotions and teasing the delight from his entire being. He deserves to feel this way though because if Zayn doesn't want him, nobody will.

"Oi, Tommo," comes a familiar voice that has him turning his attention to the origin of it and Louis does his best to smile at Niall but it's weak and pathetic - just like himself. "How about you? Do you want a game of pool?"

Louis shakes his head. "No thanks."

"Aw, c'mon Louis," Liam swings an arm around Nialls shoulder and Louis feels his heart drop into the stomach at the sight of Nialls smile growing just that little bit wider - he wants that, wants that with Zayn. "Don't be a party pooper."

_I am a party pooper - an ugly one at that._

"No, really," Louis finishes off his water and pushes himself onto the soles of his feet. "I'm tired, lads. Think I'm gonna go home, sleep the night away."

"It's only half past seven." Harry chimes in with a pout and then he's making his way over to them, standing next to Liam.

"I'm tired." He mumbles, repeating his words, and he tries to smile, god he really does, because his three best mates are stood in front of him with stupid silly grins on their faces and if he were eighteen years old and happy, he'd kiss their noses and tell them how much they meant to him but-- "Goodnight, guys."

"Don't go, mate," Liam frowns and there's something in his eyes(something that looks related to a lot like knowledge of a certain topic). "We want you to stay."

Louis looks at him, glares right into his fucking soul - or at least tries too but he's just too worn out from the demons still eating away at his happiness but Liams eyes are attached to Louis. Until they aren't. And Louis watches as Liam looks over his shoulder and Louis wishes he didn't know what Liam was looking at but he does and he can feel the misery settle deep within. "Yeah," he chuckles a bit, voice shaky as he desperately tries not to cry. "Not all of you want me to stay, some are too busy with - _whatever_."

And then he's pushing past Liam with a huff, tears sweeping down his cheeks, making them sticky and gross and when his nose is met with a soft breeze, he allows himself to start letting the broken sobs escape his lips - Zayn didn't want him to stay. He wants in the pants of a  _female_. It was obvious, Louis could see it in his eyes.

 

It's half past nine and already Louis has made exactly three new incisions(not quite surgical expectations), in the flesh of his left thigh. Two over some old scars, and one fresh one right on the right side. He's cried, bashed his hands against the wall of the bathroom - which busted his fourth fingers knuckle of his right hand and now, he's running it under the cold tap of the kitchen sink, wiping the tears viciously from his eyes. It's soothing, the ice water and all, and he wonders how it'd feel on his scars, whether it'd feel solace or whether it'd make him feel numb.

He inhales, trails his finger over the cut with a racked sob; he doesn't remember  _how_ he became like this. It just happened. He got too fat, too disgusting, and now he's paying the consequences for being such a burden on humanity. Sometimes, he wishes he was never born because the pain of heartbreak, jealous, and detestation rolled into one is just too fucking much for him to deal with - Louis has limits, and now, now he's beginning to discover that.

There's a loud knock at the door that makes him jump, hand flying to turn off the cold faucet and then he's looking down at the gray sweatpants that hang a little too low on his hips to make sure that dark red isn't seeping through the material before making his way to the door, even though his eye are probably red and puffy and tears are still staining his cheeks and when he opens it - oh.

It's Liam.

And Liam has a frown on his face - Louis hates it.

"Can I come in?" He asks, voice slurred, and Louis just nods and steps to the side.

He guides Liam into the living room, wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and takes a long, well needed deep breath as Liam plops down next to him and as soon as Liam connects their eyes in a stare that should be considered extreme, Liam's the one to break down in tears. And that's when Louis smells it, the strong smell of alcohol filling his nostrils as Liam lurches forward, burying his face into his hands and the only thing Louis can do is place a hand flat on his lower back and scoot closer.

"I - shit Louis," Liam manages to breathe out and Louis can see him pull at the end of his hair. "I just love him so much and he doesn't even see it."

Louis looks at nothing in particular and listens to Liam babble on about their blonde friend.

"He's just so funny, and amazing, and incredible," He prattles, swaying back and forth as Louis rubs his back. "He's everything I've ever wanted and-"

"Hold on a minute there, Payne," Louis interrupts as he pries a hand away from Liams face and immediately, he's met with swollen eyes and tears shielding the males vision - oh, Louis knows the feeling all too well. "I've seen the way Niall looks at you and he lights up like a fucking Christmas tree."

"Liar." Liam accuses but Louis shushes him with a finger to his lips.

"Listen," Louis turns his body to him, the movement of his legs making the three new gashes ache - he thrives off the pain. "I'd never lie to you. He  _loves_ you, Liam. It's written over those big blue eyes of his-"

This time, it's Liams turn to interrupt. "I like his big blue eyes."

Louis chuckles and pats Liam's knee. "I know you do, mate," he leans forward a bit and looks into Liam's eyes and it's there - the same thing that he sees whenever Niall lets his guard down for Liam. Want, desire, longing, craving,  _need_. "And I think he likes brown eyes - especially your brown eyes."

Liam giggles at that and leans into Louis' side.

"He likes you, Liam, I promise you that."

Liam just hums, eyes closed as he tries his chance at sitting up straight but he fails, body hunching forward again. "I'm gonna tell you a secret - a very big secret that's only supposed to be meant for me and Niall."

Now Louis is intrigued, despite how shitty he feels.

"I," An emotion that seems a lot like smugness slips over Liams features and if he doesn't tell Louis within the next five seconds, he's going to punch him in the balls. "We were at my house a month ago right," he's laughing again until he isn't. "And we were just playing X Box, I think, can't really remember, to be honest and he kissed me and I sort of kissed him back but-"

"Liam fucking Payne, how come you didn't tell me about this sooner?" Louis asks but Liam hushes him by poking his knee. It all makes sense now though - there had been a few moments where Liam and Niall had been awkward with each other about a month ago, and now Louis knows the reason why.

"I haven't finished," Liam states, placing both of his hands on the seat of the couch as he pushes himself up straight. "We haven't talked about it since but he's been looking at me like-"

"Like he  _loves_ you." Louis finishes but Liam just shakes his head and leans in close so that Louis can feel his warm breath on his ear.

"Like he wants me to fuck him against the wall, he likes it rough, I know he-."

And that's enough information for Louis today. He stands up, wincing at the shooting pain through his leg, but he bites down on the inside of his cheek and bursts out laughing as Liam falls flat on his face on the couch.

"Hey!" Liam scowls, voice muffled by the sofa. "I was just stating facts."

"Yeah," Louis nods and leans down to grab Liam by the bicep, pulling him up so that he's somewhat sat up. "And now, I'm stating that it's time for you to go home. I'll call you a taxi."

"No, no, no," Liam shakes his head and then he's standing up, a little wobbly on his feet but he manages to compose himself. "Gotta tell you something else too."

Louis rolls his eyes and pokes Liam right in the middle of the chest so he falls backwards with a pout on his lips. "Stay." He demands as he makes his way into the kitchen and grabs the phone from the counter.

 

When he comes back out, Liam's droning a random tune that Louis can't comprehend and it shouldn't make him laugh but it does  - Liam's drunk and oh, Louis is definitely going to use this as blackmail in the future. He ambles over to Liam, bare feet padding against the wooden floor and then reaches out, making grabby hands at Liam who grins up at him sleepily and Louis gambles that he'll be out like a light as soon as he's home.

He hauls Liam up from the couch and leads him out into the hallway and opens the door, gripping the fabric of his shirt until they're at the outer door and then he's leaning Liam against it who has a goofy smile toying at the corner of his lips. "What you grinning at, Liam?" He questions, placing a hand on his hip. The taxi will be hear soon, he knows it, and in a way, he doesn't want Liam to go because drunk or not, Liam's actually proper good company.

"Oh, nothing," Liam snickers as his back slides against the door but he catches himself on the door handle, stopping his butt from meeting with the floor. "Just something I know that you don't."

"And I suppose you don't plan on telling me this little secret then?"

Liam shrugs and then his expression goes serious. "I see it, y'know," he tells Louis. "The way you and him look at each other and tonight-"

Louis knows exactly what Liam's talking about and god dammit, he wishes he would have been more sneaky with his 'secret' glances towards Zayn. If he had known Liam was being so damn observant tonight, he wouldn't have even bothered giving Zayn a second glance(yes he would have). "You're drunk." He breaks in, stopping Liam from his sentence.

"Louis, listen to me-"

"Liam, you're  _drunk_ , you're imagining things."

"No I'm not!" Liam disagrees with a garble of other incoherent words and then there's a care pulling up with a yellow _TAXI_ sign on the top of it.

"C'mon," Louis gestures towards the car, lightly pushing Liam towards it. "Lets get you home."

"No, Louis," Liam allows Louis to pull him towards the vehicle though. "You really gotta here this-"

"No, Liam, I really don't." And with that, Louis opens the door and motions for Liam to get in and thankfully, he does. He makes sure he tells the taxi driver where exactly Liams flat is and hands him over ten pounds and tells him to keep the change.

"Lou, listen to me-" 

"Goodnight Liam, text me in the morning or don't, I don't really care." He gives Liam a curt smile that takes up all his energy and then he's closing the car door.

He doesn't even watch it drive away, just makes his way back into the house and makes sure the doors are locked before sinking down into the safety of his bed and thinks that this world really, really has a reason to hate him - he's selfish, only cares about his own feelings, didn't even want to hear what Liam had to say.

And now, he's kind of, sort of, wishing that he had.

 

Zayn doesn't come home on time.

Louis forces himself to believe that it doesn't hurt like a knife slicing through his heart but lets all the unwelcomed pain rinse away when he's driving the blade into his skin of his wrist at half past four in the morning.

Zayn should have been home two hours ago.

He doesn't come home at all.

\- x -

Louis is in the kitchen making a cup of tea when Zayn stumbles through the door, a powerful waft of alcohol instantly making itself known as he male drifts closer and closer until he's leaning against the door frame, leather jacket open and white shirt unbuttoned at the top and Louis is pretty sure Zayn has a lipstick stain smeared into the fabric of the collar but he averts his eyes to the cup as soon as he sees it and pretends his heart 

"Hi." Zayn greets with a sheepish smile.

"Hey." Louis isn't quite so sure why his voice turns to jelly or why it seems faint but it does. He doesn't look up at Zayn though, just sips his tea as if it's the most important thing in the entire world.

"I wanna go to the beach today." The raven haired boy announces as he takes a few steps into the kitchen but Louis goes tense, knuckles turning white around the cup. "-- Jesus, Lou, what happened to your hand?"

Louis looks down at his hand, allows the tip of his thumb to travel over the small ripping of the skin and it stings quite a bit but he doesn't give a fucking damn. "Fell leaving the pub." His voice is blunt and from the corner of his eye he sees Zayn go rigid.

"Speaking of that, why'd ya leave?" He prompts and Louis shrugs.

"Just felt like it."

There's a pause in the atmosphere, as if the air's frozen around them, smothering them until they're forced to look at each other and as soon as Louis turns his head, he's introduced to Zayns coffee coloured mocha orbs and rosy lips and cheekbones that should be considered a fucking crime - scratch that, Zayn Malik should be considered a crime.

"You're acting weird." Zayn confesses, looking down at the laminated golden floor beneath them.

"Have not." Louis professes and he wishes he could break their gaze, he really does, but he can't bring himself to do it because now, those fucking alluring eyes are staring at him and not that stupid blonde bimbo.

"You have and-"

"What was her name?" Louis questions, slopping his head to the side.

Zayn's brows tow together. "Who's name?"

Louis laughs at that, the acid-like sound falling past his lips as he rests his elbows on the table, crossing his arms. "You know exactly who I'm talking about, Zayn. Don't play fucking dumb with me."

"Since when did you get so-"

"So what?"

Zayn halts, movements frozen and it's as if his limbs are immobilize but then he's stepping forward, pulling out the chair across from the table and Louis watches as he takes a seat. "So fucking _strange_. You've changed over the years Louis-"

He knows he's right and Louis disdains it.

"Have fucking not!"

"--And  you've stopped partying, stopped wearing short sleeved shirts for god knows what reason. You've even stopped drinking and you think I don't notice when you sneak away to the bathroom to do whatever the hell you do in there whether it's have a quick wank or-"

"Shut the fuck up, Zayn." Louis warns and his voice is calm but Zayn doesn't shut up, he just keeps going.

"-- Or other shit but you think I don't notice... I do, Louis, I fucking notice every little thing you do and it's  _annoying_ because I _-_  It's like I don't even know my best mate anymore."

And then he stops.

And Louis practically deflates right then and there - he's  _annoying_. He knows he's irritating, knows that he can be too loud for some people(well, recently, he's been quieter than usual), but Zayn? He never expected that from his best fucking mate. He doesn't know why that stands out to him exactly, but. He inhales, feels the tears collect in his eyes slamming his feet down on the floor and pushing until the chair skids across and hits the counter and then he's rushing out of the kitchen with trembling legs.

Zayn's hot on his tail, can hear the thud of his boots against the floor and Louis  _detests_ him right now.

"Fucking leave, Zayn." Louis snarls as he enters the bathroom, trying to close the door by plunging his entire weight against it but Zayn's too fucking strong, has his hands clasped around the bridge of it and he's _pushing_.

Louis can't wait anymore though. He needs relief, needs,  _ease,_ so he lets the door go and it whacks right off of the wall but he's careless about that. He just needs this. He works quickly, trying to redeem the blade from the pocket of his jeans that he threw on the floor and just when he gets it, he makes the mistake of turning towards Zayn and putting the keen object against the sleeve of his jumper because he knows he doesn't have time to lift it up and--

Zayn's right there, tearing the dangerous object away from the grip of his fingers and Louis gets go of it, surprisingly easy because okay, Zayn and him may have little bickering session here and there but he can never stay mad at Zayn for too long and he certainly can never say no to him, no matter how much he wants to. He's breaking down though, broken cries escaping past his dry lips and he's gasping, wheezing, panting, doesn't know what's going on. He's certain that Zayn has a tight grip on him though, regardless of the tremors he feels coming from Zayns frame and the wetness on his own shoulder.

And then they're on the floor, Zayn on his knees, just holding Louis as he breaks down, finally letting all of those pent up emotions out in his tears.

He's never been so grateful for Zayn in his entire life.

 

His eyes flutter open to the dip of his mattress and it takes Louis a moment to register where he is and what his surroundings are but as soon as he looks up at Zayn, those warming brown eyes making him feel right at home.

Louis feels stiff though and all his joints and muscles ache - it's like he  _needed_ that cry, like it had been a long time coming and then he's feeling the colour red slide onto his cheeks out of embarrassment because no, Zayn shouldn't have found out.

"Didn't mean to wake you. Sorry." He apologizes, fiddling with his fingers - something he always does when he's nervous. It's kind of cute.

"It's okay." Louis flashes him a nervous smile. He knows his voice is rough and his throat feels scratchy but Zayn must be wondering what kind of person Louis is now - is he broken? Is he just bent? Can he be fixed? Glued back together?

"I was wondering," Zayn starts, bringing his hands up to envelop a cough. "If I could like, give you a bath, think you need it after that."

Louis wants to say no but after what had happened, the least he could do was let Zayn give him a bath, even though he knows the boy will be staring at his fat and probably judging him - then again, it's not like they haven't seen each other naked before. They have, back in the day, when they were both carefree and didn't have adult responsibilities to take care of. "Yeah, sure."

Zayn stands points towards the door that's left ajar slightly. "I've already ran it, with bubbles and everything - I know you can't say no to me. Meet you in there, Lou."

Louis genuinely smiles at that and reluctantly pushes the covers away from his sore body after Zayn exits his room. It takes him a good few seconds to get up from the comfort of his bed, his toes curling into the carpet as he moves, groaning at the dull twinge that makes its presence known. But he makes it, makes it into the bathroom because Zayn's there, waiting for him without his leather jacket.

He's kneeling down on the floor, looking at the tiles below him and Louis wants to smile, he does, but then he's looking at the space where it happened and he feels the throb in his heart.

Neither of them say anything as Louis strips down and Zayn respectfully keeps his eyes focused on anything _but_ Louis until he's settled in the warm water. He runs his fingers over the brim of it, collecting bubbles on his hand and then brings it up to inspect the soapy foam with a lazy grin playing on his lips. "I feel like a baby." He confessed.

"Don't." Zayn says as he grabs the sponge from the small rack that's drilled into the wall - all thanks to Harry and his handy work.

Silence surrounds them as Zayn lathers up some lemon and lime body wash and scrubs it across Louis' skin, being extra careful around his thighs and wrists and Louis can tell when Zayn's examining them - or trying to - because his eyes narrow and the tips of his fingers ghost over the broken skin, which would usually cause Louis to jerk away but he doesn't, jut lets Zayn do as he pleases because he knows Zayn would never hurt him.

"So," Louis beings, breaking the silence. "What was her name?"

"You're on about the bird at the pub, yeah?"

Louis nods.

Zayn lets a small laugh echo into the tub as he washes Louis' back, the light green sponge traveling over every inch. "I didn't get with her, if that's what you're thinking."

"I saw the way you looked at her."

"I was thinking about you."

Louis turns his head in the direction of Zayn then and when their eyes unite, there's something in Zayn's eyes that look near enough a lot like adoration - he sees in Liams eyes whenever he looks at Niall and now, now he's seeing it in Zayns. "You're joking."

Zayn simply shakes his head and squeezes the sponge of the excess water before immersing it back into the water. "I never joke when it comes to you, Lou."

"Bullshit, Malik, you're always fucking around with me." Louis chuckles.

" _Around_ with you," Zayn leans over the bath slightly and hesitantly presses his lips to his wet shoulder, as if he's not allowed - but he is. "Not  _about_ you."

And then he goes back to washing him.

And Louis pretends the butterflies in his stomach don't come alive - but they do, and they're gently banging against his stomach, wanting to escape but Louis won't let them because he likes the sensation.

"How long have you - I mean - how long..." Zayns voice trails off and Louis lets out a small giggle when he hears him sigh in defeat but he knows exactly what he's trying to ask.

"A few years," Louis confesses as he stares down into the water, the sponge tickling his neck but it feels nice, _relaxing_. "Dunno how i started. I guess I just gained a few pounds and then started feeling really depressed and kept it all bottled up inside."

Zayn hums, threads his fingers through the back of Louis' hair and rubs at the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry for you seeing me like that." Louis frowns, eyes fluttering closed. "Didn't mean for you to-"

"Hey," Zayn says and then his lips are on his shoulder again and Louis is looking at him. "It's okay. You should have told me, y'know, I would have helped a long time ago."

"Yeah, I know," Louis admits, bows his head in shame a little. "I'm sorry."

Zayn shushes him with a trail of kisses from his shoulder to his neck.

Louis lets out quiet giggles he can't quite contain.

 

After the bath and wrapping Louis' wrists in bandages and putting a dressing on his thigh and sticking it on with a smiley face bandaid(they ran out of the white bandaids, okay?), Zayn makes sure Louis is fixed with some hot chocolate in his favorite mug and a warm blanket he had managed to put on the heater when Louis was getting dressed in his pajamas that consists of a pair of Zayns sweatpants that are a bit too big for him but he doesn't mind, and one of Zayns sweatshirts because he  _refused_ to wear a short sleeved t-shirt. He isn't quite ready - and never will be ready - to show off his scars and cuts quite yet.

He's wedged between Zayns legs, the younger of the two currently running his fingers through his hair with one hand and his other arm is around his chest, holding him close and sometimes he'll give a little squeeze, as if to say he's not going anywhere. He likes it like this - being held by Zayn. He feels safe, confined in the bloke's arms and sometimes Zayn will tip his head forward and kiss his head and Louis can fucking  _feel_  his lips twitch into a small smile.

"You know," Zayn commences, voice soft as he allows his fingers to drift through his hair. "Sometimes, when you cry, it's just 'cause your eyes need to be washed by your tears to make the rest of your life clearer in your vision - maybe it'll take a few tries and fuck, there's definitely going to be ups and downs but life throws them at you. All you gotta do is grab them by the throat and kiss the downs on the mouth until they're begging for air but don't stop, keep going until the downs turn into ups and when ups appear, grab them by the fact - gently - and give them a long, passionate kiss because those ups deserve it."

Louis wonders if Zayn is an expert at this. He's just a fucking bartender. He's not a consular - he should be. "Zayn-"

"I'm not done," Zayn tilts his head forward and gives him a kiss on the head which make Louis' eyes close for a brief second. "Your life should be cherished. Not broken and beaten. You've only got one life so live it, breathe it, _feel_ it."

Louis listens, doesn't bother saying anything because he knows Zayn will just shut him up.

"Your life is _your_ message to the world," He whispers, leaning down to kiss the tip of Louis' ear. "Make sure it's inspiring, heart wrenching, and definitely make sure it has a happy ending."

Louis rests his head against Zayns shoulder, letting out a deep breath as he cranes his neck to look up at the boy he's insanely thankful for, heart eyes and all. "What's  _my_ ending?" He asks.

He sees something illuminate in Zayns features and then he's leaning forward ever so slightly, tongue poking out to drift across his lesser lip. "Well, Louis Tomlinson, you can have whatever ending your heart desires."

Louis  is close enough to see the small flecks of shimmering gold embedded into the gleaming sepia hues of Zayns eyes and fuck - they're  _gorgeous_ , literally the definition of beautiful, and Louis thinks that he'd enjoy his life if he could gaze into them forever and a day.

"Stop looking at me like that." Zayn blurts out but he doesn't move, just tips his head to the front so that their foreheads are toughing.

"I just - thank you." Louis murmurs, bringing his hand up so that he can stroke Zayns jaw with his index finger - Zayn shivers at the touch and Louis smirks at that.

"No need to thank me." He takes Louis' hand and pulls down the sleeve of his jumper, the end of his index finger dancing over the scars on Louis' wrist.

His eyes are intense, eyes squinted and studying them as if his life depended on it. He's tracing over them, taking in the dip of Louis' skin and then his finger sways across the most recent gash that's covered up by the plaint bandage. "These," Zayn leans down and presses a kiss to Louis' scar(Louis pretends his heart doesn't skip a beat), "are battle scars. You're a fighter Louis, and you're going to come out a winner by the end of it all."

The corners of his lips spiral into a small filled with affection, devotion, and admiration. "Any last minute advice for me?"

Zayn drops his arm, turns his eyes towards Louis and rests his head against his once again. "Don't let _your mind_ rule _you_. _Rule_ your own _mind_ ," he gulps and for the first time, Louis can sense he's nervous so he latches onto Zayns hand and intertwines their fingers. "Also, I think if you kissed me right now, that'd give you an extra bit of luck."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

So Louis does. He doesn't hesitate, just captures Zayns lips with his own and at first, it's all soft(besides his own - he thinks his lips are dry but he knows Zayn thinks otherwise), and caring and meaningful and there's something that ignites in Louis' heart, a spark that's been there for too long, a flame that's been put out by all the downs in his life and the demons that ate away at his happiness but not anymore - it's erupting, flaming up,  _blazing_ , and Louis knows Zayn feels it too because he's squeezing Louis' hand as tightly as he possibly can and okay it might hurt a little but Louis doesn't care, just keeps kissing Zayn because he likes the sensation of their lips twirling together. It's nice.

And that's when it clicks - that's when he comes to terms with it.

Louis Tomlinson is hopelessly in love with Zayn Malik for many reasons - one of them being that he lights that spark in his bonfire heart and another being because he saved his life. He's his  _hero_.

 

They sail into a peaceful slumber like that, wrapped up in each others limbs and as Louis' eyes flitter open to a buzzing in the drawer of the coffee table. He's confused at first and he thinks it'll go away but it doesn't. The vibrations are like infuriating birds tweeting in the morning and he'd be lying if he denied feeling at least a little bit irked by it. He sighs and wiggles out of Zayns grip, opens the coffee table drawer and -  _oh_.

It's his phone. 

Before Zayn had came home and everything happened, Louis had spent the majority of the morning looking for it and now he can vaguely remember throwing it in the coffee drawer because Liam kept ringing him in the early hours of the morning and _no_. His mind was racing at the time, going a million miles a second, and it sucked.

He unlocks the phone and the buzzing stops, his finger instantly clicking on the little messages icon at the bottom of the screen. Turns out, he has  _fifteen_ fucking texts from Liam but Louis chooses to read the first three because it's late and he'd much rather be sleeping  _on_ Zayn right now.

**liam:**

> _answer ur phinnnr_

**liam:**

> _got some g8 news to tell u fck it i'll jst tell u in the next text if u don't reply_

**liam:**

> _niall and i are kind of a item :) i'm hppy_
> 
> _p.s zen has feelings for you, he spnt the other night ctying in the back when u lft then he slrpt at mine /:_

 

The butterflies in his stomach come alive again, flying around and letting him know that he's a love sick full grown adult and he's quite content with that. He just rolls his eyes and switches his phone off, deciding that he'll deal with Liam in the morning and then he's looking back at Zayn. He can barely see him through the dim light but he makes him out because that's  _his_ Zayn, forever and always now, and he's feeling a bit too happy to go back to sleep so he curls up on Zayns chest and watches as his lovers chest rises and falls as he breathes.

_It's amazing_ \- Louis thinks, how his life has changed within the space of three short days, how those demons that were once there are now evaporating into thin air, slowly but surely - can feel it deep within his gut. 

He knows it's going to be hard.

But for Zayn, he'll get through this - he'll get through the depression and the sadness because he'll have Zayn right by his side, he knows it.

 

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE:**

 

_Three months later-_

 

It's been though, these past couple of months. Louis relapsed once due to a fight he had about Zayn and that blonde again - turns out, she's called Perrie and apparently, she has a tendency to try to get it in with any good looking lad out there. But Zayn is  _his_ , always has been(even at the beginning of their friendship - they just didn't know it yet), and will forever be his.

Life's a funny thing. One minute it carelessly throws something disgraceful in your face and the next, it's your best friend. Louis thinks he's never met anyone more confusing than life and if life were a person, he would have put it in hospital by now caused by harsh punches and kicks to the ribs and maybe even given it a little bit of brain damage too because he  _hates_ puzzling things.

He's perched on the edge of the couch, fingers skipping across the screen of his iPhone when Zayn treks in, heavy boots clunking against the wooden floor. Louis looks up at him with a kind smile until Zayn's reaching out for his hands and of course, Louis tosses his phone to the side without even finishing a text to one of his mates he had met from group therapy - he used to attend group therapy three times a week but now, he only goes twice, and it's nice because he has Zayn right by his side when they're sat in the circle and he has to ramble on about how he feels, even though he's pretty sure no one cares - except Zayn.

Zayn always cares.

He lets Zayn hoist him up, their fingers curling together and it's like their hands fucking  _fit_  perfectly like a puzzle piece and Louis thinks he doesn't deserve this good looking man with a bright future ahead of him but he  _does -_ Zayn seems to want him, at least, and sure, there are times when he doubts it but he often pushes them to the back of his mind now - well, when he can, really.

"Want you to do something for me." Zayn says, ducking in to steal and quick kiss from Louis' lips.

"Does that something consist of blowjobs and lots and lots of cum and over stimulation?" Louis prompts, tone light and sarcastic and he'd be kidding himself silly if he said he was joking because Zayn looks way too engaging when he comes, when he's fucking _wrecked_ and okay, maybe Louis has gotten him off once too many times but he blames Zayn for being so bloody irresistible.

Zayns brows bond together as he shakes his head. "No," he turns his attention to the floor beneath them for a second and Louis can tell he's anxious about asking whatever the hell he's going to ask so he squeezes his hand and that seems to be enough for Zayn because he's looking up, staring at him through those god damn long black eyelashes that always spread across just under his eye whenever he's sleeping and it's nice to look at - Louis may or may not have one too many pictures of Zayn when he's sleeping because of his lashes. "Want you to come to the beach with me."

Louis offers him a wide smile and nods. He hasn't been to the beach in forever. "'Course I can do that, babe, you didn't even have to ask." He's about to steer Zayn to his room when he feels his boyfriend tug at his hand, pulling him back. "What? Am I forgetting something? Are we going to have sex on the beach? Shit, Zayn - I didn't know you were into exhibition-"

" _No_ ," Zayn laughs at that as the pad of his thumb moves back and forth against the back of Louis' hand. "Enough with the sex, yeah?"

"Fine."

Zayn grins just a bit and he's putting one food in front of the other, guiding the both of them into their room - Zayns room is used for the guest bedroom now and Louis can't count the amount of times Liam has ended up laying face flat against the pillow with alcohol coursing throughout his system as he babbles incoherent things that Zayn and Louis usually drown out with the sound of the headboard banging against their room wall and the bed squeaking just a bit too loudly for their liking, but.

He watches as Zayn roots through the drawers for something and when he lets go of Louis' hand to hold up one of his t-shirts - short sleeved t-shirts - Louis feels himself collapse mentally. He's not ready. He still wears jumpers and hoodies, anything that will cover up the scars, really, because he doesn't want to wear tees that show off his wounds. He's ashamed of them, really, and Zayn has assured him so many fucking times that it's nothing to be humiliated by - he can't help it though.

"I want you to wear this." Zayn states and Louis pretends he doesn't notice the longing flash in his eyes.

"I'm not ready, Zayn." He gulps a bit, arms immediately curving around his stomach.

Zayn nods, lowers the shirt but instead of putting it away, he throws it on the bed and stands in front of Louis. "I think you're ready."

"I'm _not_." He avows, allowing his gaze to flicker between the tee and Zayn. He  _knows_ it will make Zayn happier than a fucking little kid with ice cream, shit.

"You've accomplished so much, sunshine," Zayn mumbles, bringing his hand up to cup Louis' cheek(and when Louis leans into his touch, his eyes close because Zayn makes him feel like a silly fourteen year old school girl with their very first love). "You've came out a winner, in so many ways than just one, and you'll never fucking know how proud I am of you..."

That's one of the many things Louis lives for - making Zayn proud.

"I'm going to tell out children and our grandchildren the battle you went through, y'know, and I hope the story passes down from generation to generation because they deserve to know--"

"I don't want our children knowing that I cut myself, Zayn."

The end of Zayns thumb travels over his skin and it makes Louis' legs turn to jelly, hand soaring to grab at Zayns shirt. "I do - want them to know how _strong_ you are, how proud  _I am_ of you - you're incredible, I don't think you realize that."

Louis doesn't but Zayn's _always_ right so he stands on his tiptoes and sneaks a fast kiss that has Zayn letting out a small giggle. "I just - I don't feel comfortable enough yet."

"I think you're scared," Zayn proclaims, voice clear as day. "I think you're afraid of how people will react, what people will think of you but y'know what, Lou?"

He  _hates_ the fact that Zayn is right.

"What?"

"Those people shouldn't matter because they aren't in your life. They're irrelevant. Who gives a fuck if they stare at your wrists? They haven't been through what you're been through and chances are, they aren't a winner, they're a loser." Zayn kisses the tip of his nose, hand falling from his cheek and Louis misses his touch instantly. "I'm in your life. I've been helping you through this - I'm _always_  going to helping you through this and I can assure you that those scars are  _beautiful_ , just like you."

Louis feels his knees go weak but he doesn't say anything, just looks at the t-shirt as if it's going to swallow him whole.

"I  _know_ you can do this, baby," Zayn promises with a small twitch to his lips. "You can do anything you set your mind to. I wouldn't try to convince you if I didn't think you weren't rea-"

"Okay."

Zayn looks a mixture between baffled but he scrambles towards the t-shirt and grabs it by the hem, holding it out towards Louis.

Louis takes a deep breath - he's  _ready_ , he  _can_ do this - maybe.

 

The warm air fights with arms almost immediately but now, he's between Zayns legs and the waves are soothing him. He keeps flickering his eyes down towards the scars embedded into his skin - some of them are almost away now, shrinking day by day but they're still there and he can remember a reason for every single one of them he had cut into his body. Zayn's there to move his head upwards though, so that they're sharing playful kisses and sometimes he'll do this thing where he'll stroke down Louis' jaw and over his neck with his index and middle finger and it drives Louis absolutely _wild_.

It isn't as bad as he thought it'd be. People don't leer at them. Some just walk past, others provide a smile that has pity written all over it but he doesn't mind - it's nice, to be smiled at by strangers, and he thinks he could get used to it.

"I wonder what our future will be like." Zayn ponders after pressing one last kiss to Louis' lips.

Louis turns his head in the direction of the ocean in front of them, watching the waves lift then fall with a relaxed crash. "I wonder if we'll have kids."

"I think we will - but question, what will their names be?" He asks, hugging Louis just that little bit tighter.

Louis thinks for a moment, tilting his head to the side. He hasn't thought about their future at all - sure, he wonders about it when they're in bed and he's watching Zayn sleep, lips always parted ever so slightly as he lets calming breaths escape them. He  _knows_ they'll get married but kids - he's not too sure about that. He wants them though and gosh, he wants their children to be prevented by every evil thing in the entire world, even though they'll have to learn about all the twists and turns around every corner.

"I like Preston." Zayn speaks again and as he leans forward, resting his chin on top of Louis' head, Louis can feel his lips twist into something between a small smile and wide grin.

"And I like Asher." He decides, running the tips of his fingers over Zayns leg.

"What if we have girls?" He questions again.

"Mila and Cara." Louis answers and he sure hopes Zayn likes those names and by the way the corners of his lips increase, he figures he does.

"I love you." He mumbles against Louis' head.

Louis' heart skips one too many beats but then he's glancing back towards Zayn, his head rolled to the side a bit and yeah - he's really, really thankful for Zayn because he  _saved_ him - saved his life and pulled him back up whenever he was getting in too deep. "I love you too, more than anything."

They stay like that for the rest of the day, just wrapped up in each others arms and it's hard to tell where one of them begins and the other one ends and Louis is pretty sure that Zayn even dozes off at one point but as he looks up at the sky as it transforms from a mixture of orange and yellow into black and grey, he wouldn't have his life any other way.

Those scars on the wrist - they have faded and they will continue to fade and Louis comes to the conclusion that he will no longer hide them because they're something to be proud of. His journey is a difficult one but he's getting there and every day, he feels a little bit over his old self travel back into his system.

He has finally learnt how to control his bad thoughts and replace them with good.

And just as he's about to snooze, head hanging to the side, he hears the gentle whisper of Zayns voice in his year - " _I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck_."

And it makes his lips swirl into a smile because that's  _their_ song, from the very first moment both lads hear it on the radio, they had mutually agreed that the lyrics would cling to them, much like they would cling to each other, until they're old and gray, and forced a part by this little thing called death.

However, right in this very moment, Louis feels relaxed and his tummy feels warm and for the first time in a long time, he feels comfortable in his own skin.

It's all thanks to Zayn.

Without the darkness, he would have never experienced the little speckles of stars that burst with joy and he never would have experienced Zayn - the moon, all bright and vibrant whenever he's in the presence of Louis.

Louis really, really loves his life.

And he's never been  _happier_.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the ending wasn't too bad, even if it was a little rushed but if you enjoyed it, that's all that mattered.
> 
> Have a wonderful day.
> 
> And an even better life. c:


End file.
